Sensory overload is the best way to describe the first couple days in a foreign country. I wanted to see everything, buy everything and take pictures of EVERYTHING — the cute dog on the street, the dozens of stray cats and dogs lounging in the park, the fresh-flower stand, the weird fountain, the Kentucky Fried Chicken that was basically a gourmet restaurant in Peru, the countless Peruvians staring blatantly at the group of Gringos, and on and on.
I can’t say that I had set any certain expectations of Lima, though. I arrived by night, by rickety bus, by way of uphill, rocky, fall-off-the-cliff-if-you-veer-two-inches-to-the-right roadways. I couldn’t wait for any kind of bed by the time we arrived at the Dragonfly Hostel in Lima. So when I awoke the next morning, which really was the same day as when I had gone to sleep, I was ready to explore. A group of volunteers walked down to the ocean. The small waves rolling in were peppered with surfers of all ages. Peruvian beach bums couldn’t help but stare at us and try to use whatever English they knew to get our attention.
In a place like that, it’s hard not to be extremely touristy, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being that way. I didn’t talk much the first couple days, not because I was shy or intimidated, but I was simply in awe. I would remember that feeling of hesitation I had right before stepping on the plane in Arizona, and I’d think to myself…
There wasn’t a need for even slight hesitation. I’m where I’m supposed to be, and God’s path of righteousness is right here.
Do everything in love.